


mermaid alight

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Study, Childhood, Gen, Growing Up, Hopeful Ending, UPBRINGING HEADCANONS GALORE, cw abandonment, cw illness and death (minor characters), i don't vibe w fanon surnames so i gave them all my own lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: NOTICE:Fleur Waters-Finn and Duncan Finn are elated to welcome the arrival of their daughter, Misty: born November 15th at 6:22 am.The gym leader would like to thank you all for your patience and well-wishes: Cerulean Gym will reopen in two weeks' time, where challengers can expect to battle a temporary replacement leader.Best of luck,Pokémon League representatives
Relationships: Kasumi | Misty & the Sensational Sisters
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	mermaid alight

**Author's Note:**

> please be nice to me

** NOTICE:  
_Fleur Waters-Finn and Duncan Finn are elated to welcome the arrival of their daughter, Misty: born November 15th at 6:22 am._  
_The gym leader would like to thank you all for your patience and well-wishes: Cerulean Gym will reopen in two weeks' time, where challengers can expect to battle a temporary replacement leader._ **

_**Best of luck,  
Pokémon League representatives** _

* * *

Like the others, you'd been a water birth, delivered in the pool of your mother's gym: emerging from pain into water was a cycle that would last your whole life. The fourth child, the last child, the Scorpio -- mere weeks ago, the walls were refreshed with an anticipatory layer of paint.

You were a spitfire from your earthly debut, bright orange hair the first thing nurses saw of you; born like a flame with a face full of freckles. Red cheeks. Redhead. They nearly named you Poppy. No, it wasn't until the camcorder began to tremble in your father's grip (its focus on little Daisy, quiet and scrawny, holding her baby sibling with saucer-like eyes) that your name was spoken aloud. "Look at me," he'd chuckled to himself, "gettin' all misty-eyed."

You didn't cry -- barely even a whimper, at first -- but once you were prised from your sister's arms, you screamed like it was all you'd been made to do. Perhaps you were fate's mouthpiece, or maybe you always knew where you belonged.

* * *

** KANTO EXPRESS, 14TH FEBRUARY **

**_██e█ ███████ , 37, passed last night at C███ General Hospital from a sudden illness. A remembrance service will be held this Friday at ██████, C███. She is survived by her husband and four daughters, ███y, V████, █i█ and ███ty. When questioned for comment, P█████ L████ representatives gave the following statement: "F███ was a valued ██ ████, advocate for pokémon rescue shelters and ambassador for w██r-type specialists. Her talent and tenacity_ ** _**will remain unmatched and deeply missed by all."** _ ** **

**MISSING:  
DUNCAN FINN, LAST SEEN 15TH FEBRUARY**

**_Finn is described as 6'1 of average build, with buzzed blue hair and light stubble. When last seen, he was in sailor attire (S.S. Anne) and is believed to have_ ** **_stolen a sailing boat in his escape. He is likely accompanied by a male poliwrath (responding simply to 'Poliwrath')._  
_IF YOU HAVE INFORMATION, PLEASE CONTACT CERULEAN POLICE 017XX-XXX-XXXX. ALL CALLERS WILL REMAIN ANONYMOUS._  
**

* * *

Life stops for nobody. Life, you found, overflowed with goodness: rippling waves, the jingle of a tambourine, hot chocolate with marshmallows, leaning in to smell the flowers, the goofy grin of a dewgong, swarms of luvdisc forming pink clouds in the sea, strangers' guiding compassion when you lost your sisters in the pokémart, and floating like a starmie at the top of a pool with your head tilted back in quiet rapture. Past the one or two instances of _"where's mommy and daddy?"_ that were met with curt responses (never "dead," never "missing," just _"gone,"_ as though the method didn't matter either way), they retreated to the back of your mind. The girls you were raised by were fierce-eyed and tenderhearted, armed with enough responsibilities to forget they too were children. It was Daisy's gentle encouragement that taught you to swim, Violet who lulled you to sleep with her mystical tales -- how wild staryu would flash morse-code at the indigo sky, yearning for a cosmos that was once its home. Lily... babysat. Just kinda _there_ , you supposed; rehearsing dives and deep-sea dances, hypnotising with that expressive, fluid way of movement. Before everything else, your first dream was to be a Sensational Sister. Four had to be better than three, and you could do it -- you could! You'd have practised every day, getting early bedtimes and rising at five a.m to feed the pokémon; if only they wanted you!

They didn't. Sometimes the ocean ran dry and red flames turned blue. Some days, it was like you'd never existed: mostly you did, in the loudest, most burdensome way. You watched them grow up, grow hopeful, grow bitter - in that order. Lily dyed her hair pink, bored of being the second redhead in the family (she hurt the most openly, teasing a little harsher, her childhood as the second-youngest a right you'd denied her. She'd never be loved as loudly; coddled with so much intent. She was never allowed to be the burden.) With shows came attention and boyfriends by the bucket load, and you were an obstacle to be planned around -- or, at least, you'd now started to notice. Your name was drawn out in sighs and gritted teeth ("I can't go out, I've got Misty tonight. / Go get some fro-yo, Misty, Guy-Of-The-Week and I need the place to ourselves. / Like, who's on Misty Duty while we're performing? Can we afford a babysitter? Wait, let's just like keep her with Starmie, pokémon don't let kids get into trouble. They, like, said it on National Pokégraphic -- what do you _mean_ , ' _since when do you watch that_ '?")

You almost felt sorry for the spotty-faced suitors at the Gym door, hair slicked back, clutching fistfuls of Celadon roses. They'd wear shaky grins and bounce from foot to foot when they heard footsteps - but scowled when it was you who answered the door. _"Just the kid!"_ they'd curse. Just the ginger eyesore with the perma-frown and a face full of freckles. The frequent deal-breaker for boys who just wanted to hit second base with a celebrity. It was worse than the schoolkids who only talked to you because of your bloodline: if guys were only nice to girls they thought were cute, then you wanted nothing to do with them. Your blood turned to spite and scalding salt-water, and you silenced the voices in your chest that pined for beauty: to win big on the genetic lottery, basking in conditional respect; earnest compliments not thinly-disguised with jokes to lighten the mood. No. Pretty's ship had sailed. You would become the raging tide - you'd wear clenched fists like a flawless face of makeup - you'd make commanding water-types look effortless, loved and feared in ways you'd earned. Notorious, better yet, _sensational_ in your own right.  
"L-look at me like that again, I dare you!" you started to snap at the callers. "What, you -- y'think you're good enough for my sisters with flowers they've got whole rooms of? Bet ya couldn't even beat me in a battle, with your... what've you got? A rattata, right? A _spearow_? C'mon! Get your butt kicked by an eight-year-old and we'll see who cries like a kid!"

You got to be soft on alternating weekends. You found refuge in fishing trips, accompanied by two starfish you supposed were yours ("Take 'em, Misty, I'm not letting you go out on your own.") and the utopian _'one day...'_ you'd eventually craft into existence. You laid your foundations on self-assurance and an aquatic kingdom of dreams, days spent staring into lakes, nights spent gazing at the skies with your very first teammates. In due time, you'd hook more of them from the water -- your best friend, your Gym comrades and fellow Elite Four members -- but until then, it's the sea-dweller's job to wish upon the stars.


End file.
